Offer your services to the city's biggest gangster.

All it took to get you into the back room of the Iceberg Lounge was a smile and a few kind words. And the small was optional.

The Penguin's sense of decor is impeccable. Priceless furniture and timeless decorations almost masking the little brutes thuggish nature. The mob boss is at the middle of a round table, enjoying a round of poker. As he sucks on a cigar like it's a tit, you notice he seems to be winning.

"Everybody out! Me and Mr. Cobblepot are gonna have a little... chat." You tell the room. As simply as that, you are obeyed.

Gamblers with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of chips on the table walk away. Penguin's security detail, too, leave their boss without a second thought.

"Not you two. You can stay." You smile at a pair of enticing ladies on either side of Penguin, who've just risen to their feet and made to go.

One's a blonde, her fair skin matching her white dress. The other is a beautiful black woman, her chocolate hair done up in a bun, a fetching pair of business glasses on her nose and a black dress flaunting her assets.

You're not exactly sure who they are to Penguin. Bodyguards, lieutenants, playmates... Hell, if you were the boss, they might be all three...

"Okay," Penguin says, taking a puff on his cigar. "You've got about five seconds to explain to me what the bloody 'ell is goin' on, before I 'ave my men-"

"Which men would those be?" You smirk, looking around the empty room.

"Alright, before I 'ave Tracey here pull your 'ead off!" Penguin recovers.

"Doesn't look like it'd take much effort, luv." Tracey, the blonde on Penguin's right chimes in. Like her boss, she sounds like she's from Old London Town.

"Whoa, as much as I'd love to get closer to you, I came here to discuss business." You reply.

"And that business would be?" Penguin asks, leaning forward.

"Think of this as a job interview." You respond. " Name's The Protector. You've seen what I can do. You pay me enough, and I'll do it for you."

"The Protector, eh? Sounds like a hero name. Why should I trust you?" Penguin asks.

"It's simple." You say, helping yourself to a $1,000 dollar chip. "How much you think Batman makes in a year?"

"So you're in it for cold hard cash, eh? Well that I can provide!" Penguin seems to respect your answer.

You pocket the chip. Cobblepot says nothing.

"Well, that and I'm new in town. A girl could always use your connections. I'd love to meet Vicki Vale." You joke.

"Darling, I could get you on her show if you wanted!" Penguin boasts.

"I take it that means I'm hired?" You smile.

"One more thing. I wanna see your powers again." Penguin says. "Mind control, right?"

"Anything in particular you wanna see?" You ask.

"'slong as you don't make me think I'm a chicken, eat yer 'eart out." The cockney says charitably.

A devilish thought forms in your mind. And unlike most perverts, you have the power to make yours reality.

"Here's one we can all enjoy." You grin. "Tracey, get on your knees." The Englishwoman obliges.

"What's your name? So rude of me not to ask." You apologize to Oswald's other henchwoman.

"Candy, hon." She beams at you. Unlike the others, Candy is confidently American.

"Well, I'm certainly sweet on you." You flirt. Candy winks back.

"Tracey, why don't you crawl over and eat Candy out?" You propose. Tracey seems to like the idea, since within a few seconds, she's crawled under the table, hiked up her co-worker's dress, pulled down her panties and got to work.

Penguin watches with zeal as the African-American's pussy is serviced. You find your eyes drawn away from the negotiation to it as well. You almost want to jump right in, but you're not sure which of the ladies you'd rather replace.

"Bloody Nora! Normally, I 'ave to pay 'er to do stuff like that, and even then, she whinges." Penguin murmurs.

"This is just the beginning of what I can do. Whaddaya say, am I hired... Boss?"